


Hurricane

by awkwardFawn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Based on Hurricane by Halsey, Drinking, Gun Violence, Human Trafficking, Love at First Sight, M/M, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Prostitution, Sex, Sex Work, Violence, abusive language/dialogue, based on a halsey song, dubcon, love at first fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 23:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13891851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardFawn/pseuds/awkwardFawn
Summary: Based on the song Hurricane by Halsey.Jake is so 'graciously' given the gift of one night with a prostitute for his birthday. He's reluctant at first, but shocked to find that love at first sight does in fact exist. Or rather, love at first fuck. Whatever the case, he's got it bad for this blond and he'll do just about anything to free him from the services of one notorious Bro Strider.There's a storm you're starting now





	1. Severe Weather Warning

**Author's Note:**

> This was never meant to be more than a long lost draft in my endless folder of drafts.  
> But I actually did the thing and wrote it and I could not be happier with the outcome.  
> Happy DirkJake week 2018! (Mar 4th-10th)

Your name is Jake English and you are about to tell a story that is 100% true and certainly one that you’ll never forget. Fortunately, it reminds you of a song whose lyrics coordinate exceptionally well with the scenario. Perhaps even more than you’d care to admit. 

_There’s a place way down in Bed-Stuy where a boy lives behind bricks._

Well maybe not Bed-Stuy exactly but Chicago was just as much a bustle as Brooklyn, not to mention equally as dangerous in certain areas. And the boy did live in the brick basement that was accessed through an alleyway, that much was true. This particular boy however, was no mere child or teen. He was in fact a very evil man who went by the title of Bro. As silly as it sounds, some would wince or cringe at the mention of his name. Of course his legal name could never elicit such a response. Derrick Strider wasn’t a very intimidating name at all. It sounded like the name of a man who was an upstanding citizen that attended church and held neighborhood cook-outs. He was not at all the type of man to do those things, nor was he a man to be trifled with, strong and intimidating and above the law as he was. Or rather as he seemed to be. 

_He’s got an eye for girls of 18 and he turns them out like tricks._

Boy did he ever have an eye for them, but not just girls. Bro took in and turned out both men and women varying in age from 18 to 28. His only criteria was that they be attractive enough to turn a profit for him and desperate enough to agree to his terms. Those two things sound like they’d be hard to find but this man knew just what to say and just what tells to look for to get people when they were vulnerable. That’s how and when he’d snag his newest additions. Then once they were in too deep to go back to a normal life and/or ‘too old’ for his little operation, he’d sell them off to the slave market overseas. 

_I went down to a place in Bed-Stuy, a little liquor on my lips._

And you had. You’d gone down to that brick basement in Chicago on your 22nd birthday. Of course it wasn’t your idea to begin with. Your not-so-wonderful ‘friend’ Caliborn had apparently made an arrangement for you to go down and pick someone out to spend the night with. His excuse was that you might be less boring and more tolerable if you’d gotten laid. You’d been against the idea initially, but once a little inebriated and informed that it’d already been paid for, you changed your mind. You always hated to waste people’s money. Even moreso you hated turning down a gift from someone who you deemed a friend, even if friend was a loose term in Caliborn’s case. If the pompous rich boy wanted to spend his money this way then that was his business and there was nothing more you could say on the matter. Looking to the bright side as you always did, you couldn’t help but think, ‘this could be a new adventure, right?’

_I let him climb inside my body and held him captive in my kiss._

You flush some at the memory of that particular instance, even to this day. The first time you’d laid eyes on him you knew that you’d wanted to be alone with him. More than that you wanted to hold him, wanted to drink him in, wanted to rescue him, pick him up, and fix him. Wanted to whisk him away, bring him home with you, swaddle him up in your love like a blanket made of the softest fabrics, and just adore him with every ounce of your being. But of course that first night you saw him you hadn’t the chance or method to do any of those things, or at least not in the ways you wanted to. So you settled for what your friend had so graciously paid for, which was by no means less than what you’d wanted, simply …. different. You certainly had no lack of physical attraction, that much was proven by the way you’d become putty in his hands as soon as the two of you were alone. 

He’d pushed you up against the door of the private room and kissed you less like a harlot and more like a hungry teenager. “You don’t have to play it up so much.” You’d whispered as he kissed down your neck. 

“Fuck no. If situations were reversed I’d more than gladly pay for you. You’d have a constant customer out of me with that body and those gorgeous green eyes. Christ, I could get lost in those eyes. Keep them open and on me, will you?” His breath had been husky in your ear and not a moment later he was on his knees in front of you, unbuttoning your jeans as hastily as he could. You were tempted to assume it was just a line he used with all his customers, but something about his actions bolstered the sentiment and had you convinced that he’d meant it. Without another second to think about it though, his lips were on your cock and you were gasping and staring down at him just like he’d asked. Golly Gee that was a pretty sight too, his lips wrapped around your tip, his eyes half closed, eyelashes soft, blond hair tousled slightly. And then when he looked up at you, connected with your eyes. An eruption of butterflies and warmth and something quite foreign started in your chest and you could’ve swore that was the hardest you’d ever been in your life. 

He worked you over, doing everything flawlessly, as if he’d written the book on how to get you off. You were out and down for the count within four minutes flat. When you finished you let out a silent scream and that set a new fire in his eyes. He swallowed all that you had to offer and then he was back up, pinning you to the door again. He whispered “If you keep silent like that we can keep going for hours. I can claim you were difficult to please. I can work you up again just to break you down and make you cum for me over and over.” You’d nodded eagerly, absolutely on board for this handsome blond devil ravishing you late into the night. Especially since he was so keen about it. If he’d been lying about wanting you then he would’ve sent you off after that first go, that much was clear. 

“M-might I ask your name?” You whispered back through labored breaths. 

“Only if you tell me yours first.” He purred.

“Jake, Jake E-”

“No last names. I don’t want to know.” 

“Alright.” You nodded. 

“Jake, … it suits you. Mine’s Dirk.” He looked you up and down and chewed at his lip before leading you over to the queen sized four-poster bed. You awkwardly shuffled the rest of the way out of your trousers, leaving them and your shoes by the door of the private room. You finally took the moment to take in your surroundings, noticing that the room was tinted with a rosy lavender color and that nearly everything inside was some shade of purple. Strangely enough it suited him well. 

When you turned around to face him once more he was sprawled across the bed in only boxers. You swallowed hard and promptly stripped off your shirt so that you were completely bare. It was starting to feel strange having it on, considering the circumstances. When neither of you said anything further, he motioned with two fingers for you to come closer. Of course you gladly obliged, climbing onto the sheets. He scooted as close to you as he could get and pulled your bodies flush against each other. You could feel just how hard he was and your face flushed some at the fact. 

“Christ, you are too damn cute when you blush like that, Jake.” He cooed. You let out a huff and pouted some, tempted to protest. He didn’t give you the chance, grabbing your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. After a good deal of making out and dry humping each other, your dick was very much interested in another round. You let him prepare you, let him do whatever he pleased with you really. You were almost certain this was not how these things normally went but at this point you could not care less, three of his fingers stretching you out while his other hand stroked your length. You were laying on your back for the whole ordeal and couldn’t get over just how sensual this was. Not to mention it was your first time officially bottoming. You’d done some things alone, but never had you let a man penetrate you before. You’d told him as much too, before you’d started all this preparation. He’d asked if it was alright that he was the first and you’d practically begged him for it. 

“Ready?” He asked, removing his fingers and leaning over you so that you were practically nose to nose. 

“Yes, Dirk. Please. Just, get in me already.” You whined. He’d chuckled and pecked your nose before rolling a condom on. The initial push was a little more difficult to adjust to than you’d first anticipated, but he was patient and reassuring through the ordeal, always putting you and your comfort first. Then, when he finally started moving, … dear lord. Suffice to say it was the most sensual sex you’d ever had in your life thus far. He was slow and careful but also forceful and needy all at the same time and it pulled you apart with each thrust. His voice was miraculous and he kept whispering sweet nothings to you about how amazing you were and how attractive you were and all the things he wanted to do with you given the time. Time that you clearly didn’t have with him since this was a one-time paid event. Nevertheless, it was the slowest build up to the largest orgasm you’d ever had and though you weren’t exactly sure how long it took, it felt like hours. Then once it was over and you’d cleaned up and been forced to leave, it felt like it hadn’t been enough time at all. Before you parted he gave you a very sweet kiss and told you that he’d like to see you again sometime if that’s possible. 

You’d been hoping he meant as in a date, and that you could become something more, but the sensible side of you knew that he meant he’d like you as a customer again. People didn’t work in places like this because they were interested in dating. They were here for paychecks. 

Over the next couple of weeks you’d done about everything you could to pull together a savings specifically for going back to see Dirk. You considered asking Caliborn for help with that, but there was no way that you could mention it without getting laughed at. How would you even start the conversation? “Do you believe in love at first sight?” Or maybe something more direct, like “Remember that prostitute you paid for? I need to see him again”. That was the sort of thing he would probably hold over you for the rest of your life. So instead you’d lied to him just a little, said that you needed help with some bills. Nothing major, just $50 or so here and there that were promptly stashed away into savings until you could afford another night with the man of your friggin dreams. Appropriate phrasing considering how frequently he did haunt your dreams and leave you aching in the mornings. 

_And there’s a storm you’re starting now._

Indeed a storm was definitely brewing. It began on one late night shift; you were rushing to the metro to catch the ride home before it left without you, and you noticed a blonde man standing on a street corner. He was wearing low riding pants and a mesh top that was completely see-through. You normally would’ve walked right by, but those eyes met yours and you knew it was him. Metro be damned you made your way over, completely by impulse. It was only when you were feet away from him that you realized you had no idea of what to say. So you started with some cheesy bullshit from a film you’d seen.

“How much will ten bucks get me?” 

“I’ll suck on your fingers.” He said sarcastically before turning around and realizing it was you. “Jake.” His eyes widened and he seemed totally off guard now, glancing around as if looking for someone. 

“Nice to see you again, too.” You chimed. 

“What the hell are you doing in this part of town this late? You could get mugged or some shit. You should really get home before anything happens.” 

“I should ask you the same, dressed as you are and whatnot. You’re basically a sitting duck out here.” 

“I’m working right now, and I have people that will watch me and make sure I get back safe. I highly doubt you can say the same.” As he said it, you noticed a rather heavy guy shift out of the shadows, standing against the nearest building and out of the illumination of the street lamp. You had the suspicion that if you were going to just pester Dirk and not be a customer that you’d be ‘taken care of’ by the bodyguard. You certainly didn’t want that. 

“I see. So, you’ll suck my fingers will you?” You smirked, trying to be coy. 

“Please tell me you have more than ten bucks. I’d give anything to have an excuse to blow you again.” He purred, pulling you close. Dirk then leaned up and whispered in your ear. “If I don’t make it seem like you’re buying then we’re both in trouble. And I really don’t want that for either of us.” 

“I can run to an ATM and be back in five minutes. How much do I need?” You whispered back. 

“Prices are debatable. But technically, I’m not allowed to do anything for less than $70 and I’m supposed to talk you up from that price.” He ran a hand up your side and gave you those gorgeous bedroom eyes. They were the strangest shade of yellow-orange in the lighting and you almost couldn’t tear away. 

“I’ll be back in a jiff then.” 

Dirk nodded and walked over to the bodyguard to let him know that you’d be coming back. Meanwhile you rushed off to the ATM to get the money you needed for this and then what you’d need afterward to get home via taxi, since you were clearly going to miss your metro.

You got home at one in the morning due to all your delays. On the bright side you now knew that Dirk would be there on Mondays and Tuesdays. So there was that. And it was certainly cheaper than the room prices, even if it was illegal public sex. You could see him again, and that was what mattered. 

After four months of consistently being a customer of Dirk’s, you were considered somewhat of a regular/VIP. He told you that it meant you were fairly trusted by his employer and that you could request him for courtesan-type situations. What you got out of it was that you could basically take him out on dates now as well as paying him for sex. You were abso-friggin-lutely thrilled about that and took advantage of it almost immediately. 

The two of you went out to dinner and then back to your place for a nice night. After you’d gotten down and dirty you laid there in bed, just lingering on your time with him, since you knew he’d have to leave soon. You’d been idly chit-chatting and gotten on the topic of possibly having a real relationship. As soon as you’d suggested it, he looked down and turned away from you on the bed. It felt like your whole world was coming to a halt. 

_I’m a wanderess, I’m a one night stand. Don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man._

Those weren’t the exact words that he used, but the point was clear. He was stuck in his job whether he liked it or not. Dirk explained that the last person who tried to get out of Bro’s service and into a relationship, well they wound up in the morgue to say the least. Apparently it wasn’t a smart idea to get in the way of Bro and his money. He did also explain to you though, that if things were different he’d gladly run away with you and that he’d never had a client that he was so thoroughly interested in. He didn’t tell you he loved you and he didn’t give you any ideas of how to help him. But perhaps that was for the best at the time. 

What broke your heart the most was probably finding out that he still had to have other clients aside from you. He mentioned that he often thought of you while with them, but it didn’t ease your mind any. You’d been avoiding thinking about whether or not he had to go and have sex with other people, but when the topic was presented right to your face it was hard to think about much else. It made you angry, not at Dirk of course, but at Bro. You wanted priority. You wanted to be Dirk’s only customer. But you could never afford such a thing. So you’d have to keep doing what you were doing already, buying the little bits of time and attention that you could and hoping that someday Dirk would be free to love you. 

_I’m the violence in the pouring rain. I’m a hurricane._

The anger got to you more and more with each story you’d hear about Bro and each apology Dirk would give you. Of course it made you mad that Dirk was in such a terrible situation, but it made you furious that Dirk felt the need to apologize for it. It wasn’t his fault that his boss was a complete dictator with an iron collar around each of his workers. 

The rage only built inside you with each little detail Dirk would tell you about his home life and about how he was treated when he wasn’t on the job. They were kept in prison-like environments, basically not much more than cells. The nice rooms were for sex with customers only, like having a private work office. They were always fed, but only given proper meals if they’d made their quota for the day. And if anyone complained about their service, the worker would be punished by being forced to have a “lesson” with Bro. Dirk didn’t elaborate on what that entailed, he’d mentioned that he’d luckily never had anyone complain about him. 

You did what you could to give him extra food on our meetings and to let him doze off in your bed for a while if he could get away with it after sex. You also had to start going to a local gym to have an outlet for your rage after you nearly punched a hole in your apartment wall one night. Needless to say, it was very difficult to see someone that you cared for go through such horrible treatment and it just tore you up inside to know that you couldn’t do anything about it. 

Many times you’d thought about asking Caliborn for the money to buy Dirk from Bro, since he was loaded, and then you’d never ask him for anything again and spend the rest of your life paying him back. It’d be stupid and reckless, but worth it in your opinion. But you could never bring yourself to ask him of such a thing and explaining the situation would be impossible. You doubted he’d even believe you if you told him. 

It didn’t matter though because less than a month later Dirk had come to one of your meetings on the brink of tears, telling you it’d be the last one. You’d let him in without a second thought and asked him to explain, shutting and locking the door behind you. 

“I overheard something I wasn’t supposed to hear and I’m damn well terrified, Jake. They’re going to take me away, all of us away from the city. We’re all moving.” He clutched to your shoulders and the look of fear on his face was one you’d not yet seen and hoped to never have to see again. 

“Calm down, love. Sit on the couch. Take a deep breath. Tell me what exactly you heard.” You tried to be the calmer person. Inside you were alight with the fire of a lover scorned, ready to storm down to that brick basement and kill Bro. You wouldn’t be able to do it, and you knew that, but hell you wanted to anyway. 

“He said …. Bro said that people were getting too attached to his dolls and that they’d have to relocate. He wants to move all of us to Brooklyn and start fresh. New clientele. He mentioned already having a place set up and picked out. I think they’re going to drug us and move us overnight. Jake. I don’t want to leave. This town is where I grew up. I don’t know anywhere else and I don’t want to be somewhere new, all alone.” By the time he was done talking your brain was pretty convinced that you were dying. 

“So, … question. Due to the fact that I’ve been paying in cash and staying somewhat anonymous, do you think I’d be in the clear to move as well and just continue purchasing your services?”

“No! No. If anyone found out that I knew and told you we’d both be dead. I’d be so screwed. I’d be done for. I don’t want to know what Bro’s lessons are like. And I don’t want you to be murdered either. It’s not safe.” He seemed almost delirious, like he’d been through all the options in his head hundreds of times and only come to dead ends. 

“How would they know the difference between a coincidental move and a plan to keep us together?” You asked, really grasping for straws. 

“Because you’d be around again and I’m your favorite. They’d be suspicious. It’d be obvious, Jake. These guys aren’t idiots. And I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve figured out who you are and ran background checks on you already. They’re fucking mafia level thorough.” He buried his face in his hands. 

“Ok. Ok. Let me think about this for a minute. I’ll find a way to make it work. I promise.” You said, stepping around the couch and resting your hands on his shoulders. 

“Don’t.” Dirk snipped at you, lifting his head immediately and going tense. 

“Don’t what?” You lifted your hands gently, hoping the contact wasn’t the issue. 

“Don’t make it a promise. Don’t promise me anything. Please for the love of everything that is good just don’t.” He looked back at you over his shoulder and it pained you to see that kind of hurt in his eyes. 

“I don’t see why not. I make good on my word, Dirk you can trust that. You can trust me. I will find a way to fix this.” You stood your ground. 

“Jake. There’s no way out of this and I’m never going to see you again. Let’s just face the facts. This is the life that I chose and it’s damn well fitting for someone like me. I don’t deserve you.” It felt like getting slapped in the face. 

“What in the hell are you talking about now? Of course you do. You deserve far better than me in fact and I’m surprised you settled for my fool ass in the first place.” Your voice raised a little and you struggled to keep yourself from completely breaking down. 

“Don’t flatter me, Jake. I know there’s no way out of this so we might as well give up and say our goodbyes.” He said it with such a flat tone, as if he’d already accepted it. As if it didn’t bother him anymore. You wondered how in the hell someone could just give up that quickly. 

“So that’s it then? You’re just going to give up on us? All because you can’t think of a way out?”

“Listen, if you’ve got a better idea up your sleeve then please, let me know. If not, then I’d like to have one last night of passion with you before I lose damn near everything.” He raised his voice at you for once and you couldn’t help but be a little shocked. 

You were silent for a long moment, neither of you looking at the other. 

“What if I bought you from him?” You stared at the wall as you pitched the idea, not quite believing you were even considering this seriously now. 

“You don’t have that kind of money.”

“I could get it though. I could take out a loan.”

“How in the hell do you intend to do that? Are you just going to walk into a bank and ask them for a loan to buy your prostitute lover and expect them to say yes?” He chuckled, practically laughing at the thought.

“Well that’s for me to sort out, isn’t it?” You knew it sounded childish, but it was the only comeback you had at the moment. 

“Are you insane?”

“Probably, but would that be such a bad thing?” 

It was silent for a long minute once more and you went to sit next to him on the couch. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together with his. “I wish I could imagine that plan working, but there’s no way you’d ever be able to pay off that loan and survive. We’d be homeless.” 

You lifted your arm and kissed his knuckles, “Just answer me this, do you think Bro would sell you to me?”

“I think ……. For him it’s always been about the money. I think if you could get the cash, he’d do it.” 

Relief flooded through you upon hearing that and you smiled at Dirk. “Then that’s all I needed to hear.”


	2. Eye of The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complications arise. Dirk has to leave. Jake follows him. Things get messy. It's called the eye of the storm for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I said this was going to be cranked out a lot faster than this. I apologize for that. Life has been stressful what with still being unemployed and getting a bunch of interviews with no callbacks. Personal life aside though, I finally got part two done and I am going to be stretching the ending into a part three as well. So stay tuned for that.

_I’m a hurricane._

You knew that Dirk thought that he was the hurricane, having to lure men in only to push them back out once he got the money he was owed. He’d pulled you into the eye of the storm and now your only options were to follow where he went and wait for the storm to subside or to embrace it like some kind of superhero. If you made one wrong move you’d have to face the wind and the rain that was swirling all around you, caging you in. You weren’t upset about any of it though, in fact you were honored to be considered strong enough to withstand this natural disaster.

That last afternoon, you’d stayed with him as long as you could, even paying for a double session so that he wouldn’t get in trouble. The two of you soaked each other in as if there would never be another chance to see each other. Like you were running out of breath and the other was the oxygen tank you’d been desperately needing. Then just like that, he was gone and you were left alone with your thoughts. You knew what you had to do, of course, you just didn’t have the words put together just yet to go see Caliborn. 

You knew that he’d want details and you certainly didn’t have those, so you did what any poor sap would do and turned to the internet for help. 30 minutes later you knew far more about human trafficking than you’d ever wanted to know. You learned that you’d need on average around $30,000 and depending on Bro’s assessment of Dirk’s value and how much he was making on him annually it could go up or down from there. You hated thinking of him in terms of materialistic value but it was what you had to do for now. It was the only foreseeable out. 

_I’m a hurricane._

This time you figured it was you who was the hurricane, dragging your friends down into your mess with you, like you were about to do. Everything felt like it was spiraling down now, and it didn’t help that you had no idea where Dirk was or whether or not he was safe. Regardless you met with Caliborn and explained everything from the beginning. You left out the raunchy details of course, because you’re a gentleman who doesn’t discuss such topics. When you finished, he sat there silently for a long minute before just breaking out into sharp laughter. 

“So that’s why you’ve been less annoying lately. I figured it was sex but I didn’t want to assume anything. I don’t assume things. But I do know when I smell some bullshit and this is definitely that. Jake if you need money you can just be honest with me about what it’s for, you don’t have to make up some bullshit story about a slut.” 

“But I am being honest, as ridiculous as it may sound. I’m desperate, Cal.” 

“Talk to the slut tamer. Tell me his price and I’ll see what I can do. Stop sitting around on your ass. Get up and go.” He made a shooing motion with his hands as if you could just jog down to the place right this moment and be back before nightfall. 

“If only it were that simple.” You sighed.

“Why the hell isn’t it?” He growled. 

“Well …. They may have just relocated to Brooklyn.” 

“Then go after him. What are you waiting for? A formal invitation? They aren’t going to send you one, Jake.” He looked at you like you were an idiot, and for once you sort of agreed. You really should have chased after Dirk, asked about pricing, made some sort of offer, something just so you’d know how deep you’d have to get into this. Instead you did what? Online research? Fat lot of good that’s done you really. The underground world doesn’t exactly run a website listing prices for local prostitutes. This isn’t buying a arbitrary item off ebay, this is a human life. 

_I’m a hurricane._

Less in a metaphorical sense and more in a literal sense, the airport felt much like being lost in a storm, especially for someone like you who’d never flown before. You barely made it to check in on time and that’s only because a stranger was so kind as to direct you to the correct station for your airline. You managed to get through security well enough, and managed to find the correct terminal without getting lost. Nevertheless, it was quite overwhelming, even for someone who was used to the hustle and bustle of a big city like Chicago. 

You were prepared for it to be intimidating, but you weren’t prepared for the lurching feeling in your stomach as the plane left the ground. Nor were you prepared for the way the altitude would make your ears ache, or the child who sat behind you kicking your seat and being noisy for the entire two hours you were in the air. 

Landing was an entirely different experience, and none the more pleasant. It felt like being in a car that’s trying to stop on the dime to avoid a crash. You were nearly thrown forward in your seat as they applied the brakes and made contact with the ground once more. It was quite possibly one of the most frightening experiences of your life and not one that you’d be looking forward to having again. Perhaps you and Dirk could take a bus home instead? You’d figure that out if and when you got that far. 

_I went down to a place in Brooklyn where you tripped on LSD._

Well of course, as far as you knew, no one was actually doing drugs. However, you were in Brooklyn now, that much was very apparent. It didn’t seem too different at first, but there were little things you’d noticed about the way people spoke and behaved that struck you as odd comparatively. The first thing you did was track down a cheap hotel for the night so you could drop your belongings and get settled. The second thing you did was look at the local job postings because you had a feeling you’d be here for a while. Also you didn’t want to be depending on Caliborn’s help on the off chance that he declines your request or Bro asks for more than you can get from your friend. 

After applying to about twenty different places, you’d secured your room and headed out to explore the nightlife. It’d been about a week and a half since you’d seen Dirk and in the dimly lit streets your mind was playing tricks on you. Nearly every blond man that was about his height appeared to be Dirk at first, then when you took a second look, it never was. Tired and defeated, you’d returned to your hotel room hours later with sore feet, figuring it was for the best you hadn’t found him right away. The next morning you awoke to a call from a local coffee shop, inviting you to come down for an interview and they gave you the job immediately. 

Little did you know that shop was immediately across the street from Dirk’s assigned corner to work. Apparently it was a very popular spot for people to walk through, but one that cops rarely bothered checking on their patrols. Naturally you’d gone straight after work, marching across the street and right up to Dirk’s bodyguard watchman or whatever he was called and asked if he could take you to see Bro. The man blatantly told you that if Bro knew you’d found them this fast he’d just book it again and skip town. You asked him if there was any way you could have a quick, anonymous session with Dirk without Bro finding out. He agreed, but only for the low low price of a $50 bribe. 

To say that Dirk was shocked to see you was quite the understatement. As soon as the two of you were alone he was all over you like a man who’d finally found water after weeks of walking in the desert. You couldn’t much blame him, since the feeling was mutual. Hundreds of kisses and two desperate handjobs later, it was time for you to head home and Dirk to head back to the corner. The bodyguard man made it very clear that if you tried to hire Dirk again in the next couple of weeks that you’d likely be put on a hit list and taken out. You explained that you worked at the friggin coffee shop across the street so you couldn’t help but to be in the area, however you could pretend to be oblivious. 

_And I found myself reminded to keep you far away from me._

The next few weeks were difficult, but manageable. You’d sneak glances while working every now and again, but only when you were certain you wouldn’t get caught. The real trouble was when you had closing shifts because you would have to wash the windows and attempt to look out of them without looking at Dirk or at least without making it seem like you recognized him. 

As difficult as it was to pretend to be unfamiliar with the love of your life, you preferred that and actually being able to see him than when you’d look across the street any time after noon and he’d be absent. It always meant that he was somewhere with someone else, likely servicing some stranger. It wasn’t a thought that you liked to entertain. One night after work you’d heard a whistle from across the street and you just knew that it had to be for you. When you turned to look, sure enough Dirk’s guard was standing there, gesturing for you to head over to him. 

When you got across the street he’d pulled you aside, instructing Dirk to keep working and ‘let the men talk’. As much as you didn’t like the way he spoke to your beloved, you obliged, letting him lead you to where he usually lurked against the wall of a nearby building. 

“Aight so I think the boss has calmed down about anybody possibly being on his trail. Might wait a little while still, but I think I could set ya up with a time to see him. I just gotta ask what it’s about.” This guy sounded like one of the Italian mobsters from those old black and white movies. 

“Well, erm. I guess you could say I’m in the market for uh, purchasing one of his ‘dolls’. I just want to get a ballpark idea of what kind of pricing he’s offering.” The man barked out a laugh right in your face and slapped you on the shoulder. 

“Y’ain’t gotta be all dancey about it, you can tell me you want our tall blond an handsome here to yourself. I get it. Guys fall in love with our workers all the time. Mosta them get over it though. Are ya sure you want him?”

“Absolutely.” You responded immediately. 

“Well that sounds sure enough to me.” He was silent for a moment. “Tell ya what, I like you. You never hurt my boy over here and ya seem like a stand up fella. I’ll give ya some pointers on how to approach Bro. First, ya gotta know, ya can’t beat around the bush with him. Don’t use metaphors because he’ll take em to a whole new level. Set the language as metaphor. Make ya agree to some shit ya don’t even know what it is. Twist it to his own wishes or whatever. Be direct with the dude.” 

“I’ll … work on that.” You gave him a nervous smile and he laughed again. 

“I think Bro’s gonna like you.” 

“I’m not sure if I really like the idea of that.” You chuckled nervously and pushed your glasses up on your nose. 

“It’s a good thing. If he likes ya or feels like he can trust ya then he’s more likely to make business with ya. He won’t fuck with no shady shit. If he thinks he’s gonna be turned in then he ain’t goin for the deal. Very selective, that one.” This man’s hand gestures only solidified your comparison of him to television mafia members. 

“Makes sense to me.” 

“Aight. I’ll let ya know a day in advance when it’s time to go see the boss.” He got up and offered a hand for you to shake. You took it hesitantly and got the life squeezed out of your knuckles. “Hah, see ya around. Oh an don’t forget to wear a suit. Somethin nice but inconspicuous. If ya look like money he might offer a fair price instead a somethin sky high to scare ya.”

“You seem to have really know what you’re talking about. Sounds like you’ve been working with him for a while.” You commented casually. 

“Yeah, ‘with him’. I guess you could say that. Now go on, get on with your shit before I gotta rough you up for stickin around too long.”

And just like that you headed home with a new hope in your heart and a terrible ache in your wallet. You in fact did not own a suit, nor were you fashionable enough to know what ‘nice but inconspicuous’ looked like. Luckily you did have a friend who was a bit more fashionable than yourself. That night you video called Jane and asked her for her suggestions on colors and fits. She was awfully nosy about the whole thing, but any time she asked what it was for you just asked her to drop it and she respected your wishes on the matter. 

_And there’s a storm you’re starting now._

To sum things up. Yes, you found a suit. Yes, you were called in for a meeting with Bro. Yes, he **recognized you.** No, you did not die. To your complete surprise, he was a very decent host despite his line of work. It only reminded you more of the mafia. The two of you were having lunch in an empty apartment, which struck you as odd, but of course he wouldn’t take you straight to his ‘lair’. The one thing you did expect was how many bodyguards he kept in the room while the two of you spoke. In total there was about ten people in the room, but of course you weren’t counting. 

“So, Jacob, let’s cut the shit.” Bro said through a mouthful of sandwich. “Cro mentioned something about a business inquiry. I didn’t realize you were in the business, but positions are always open. So what are we here to discuss exactly?”

You took a deep breath to collect yourself before finally speaking. “I’m looking to purchase one of your workers. I’m simply here today to get an estimate on your pricing.”

He let out a gruff laugh that made you sort of uncomfortable. “Let me guess, you want golden boy from that first night you visited us in Chicago? Who am I kidding of course you do. You’ve never even tried any of the other flavors we offer.” He paused a moment to take a sip of his drink. “So, Dirk then?” You remembered what ‘Cro’ as you now knew he was called, had been talking about with the metaphors and stopped yourself short of playing into his. 

“Yes, you caught me. I am in fact inquiring about Dirk. How much would it take for you to part with him?” Good. Clean. Direct. Point for English. 

“Why don’t you make me an offer first. I wanna see what kind of ballpark you’re working with and what you think he’s worth.” Bro settled back in his chair with a smug smile, arms folded over his chest. 

You’d had the suspicion that he would do this. You’d thought this moment over many times in the past few days. “Honestly, I’m going to cut it straight to you. I know that Dirk is getting older. I know that he’s probably approaching the age in which you cut your workers loose. And I also know that in most markets you’d only be able to make about twenty grand on someone of his age and stature. I’m going to offer you a very generous twenty-six thousand.”

The room is dead silent for a long minute. Bro leans forward on the table once more and squares to you. “Smart cookie. Sounds like you’ve really done your research. There’s just one little hitch in your plan there. I still have about a year left of use out of him before any of that would happen. That’s something I’d like to be compensated for.”

“Alright. How much do you think you’d make off of him in the next year? Excluding my patronage of course because I’m not renting to buy here.” You figured that metaphor was safe enough to use without getting twisted up too tight. 

“I’d say you should tack another six grand on there at the very least. Then I’ll consider your offer. And you’re damn right, you’re not renting to buy, otherwise I’d owe you some sort of discount on the price we’re talking here and that’d just be bad business on my end.” He almost looked offended and that was certainly something you were trying to avoid was making him upset. 

“Right. So how does a grand total of thirty-four thousand sound?”

“Make it thirty five and you’ve got a deal, my friend.”

“Done.” You offered your hand up to shake, hoping that would confirm your deal and keep Dirk on reservation for you. 

“Now, English, before you shake here there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

You pulled your hand back slowly and cocked your head to the side.“What about?” 

“You don’t have this kind of cash upfront. I’m no idiot. When are you gonna be able to get this shit to me?” You wondered how in the hell he knew that. Then you thought for a second and wondered how in the hell he’d learned your last name when you’d never told it to him. You supposed it could be chalked up to ‘research’, but you wondered just how much he knew. 

“At best? A month. At worst? Well … I’ll let you know.” You offered your hand once more and raised an eyebrow in question. 

“I’m not releasing him to you until I have every last penny in possession and accounted for.” Bro then reached out and shook your hand, cracking a few of your knuckles in the process and chuckling.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You let go and politely got up to leave without another word. 

_And there’s a storm you’re starting now._

As soon as you got home to your apartment that night, you called Caliborn up immediately. Much to your dismay he didn’t answer the first time; so naturally you kept calling until he did. When you finally got him on the line he did not seem pleased in the slightest. 

“What the everloving fuck do you want at this hour?” He sounded more grumpy than usual, also suspiciously like he just woke up. You mentally slapped yourself for not thinking about the time. It was nearly midnight for you, so it was around 11pm for him. 

“Sorry. It’s just that I just met with Bro. We discussed pricing. I have the numbers you asked for.” You tried not to sound too giddy, and likely failed. 

“Who the hell is bro and what the fuck pricing are you talking about Jake? You’re gonna have to elaborate here.” He rasped. 

“The pimp? Cal do you not remember me coming to you and asking for financial assistance for buying my boyfriend? The same guy that you paid for me to see on my last birthday? None of this ringing a bell?”

“Jacob you’re not making any fuckin sense. Are you high?”

“No! Of course not! How dare y- … you know what? It doesn't matter. Would you like me to explain it again to refresh your memory?” You pinched your nose above your glasses and took a deep breath. You could not believe of all the conversations for your friend to forget, he chose this particular one. 

“Nah. I’m just yanking your chain. Playing dumb like you do. Giving you a taste of your own medicine.” You huff under your breath and choose to ignore that because you obviously don’t agree. “So what did he say? How much is your loverboy?”

“Well …. It was nearly as bad as I expected. Which is to say he’s looking for around thirty-five thousand.”

You can hear him sigh into the receiver and you just know this is a lost cause. Just from that sound alone, you know that he isn’t going to be giving you the money. 

“Cal, I know it’s a lot to ask. I can pay you back. I can pay it off like a loan. I’ll take anything you can give me.” You were just about at the point of begging now, and that was only if this wasn’t already considered begging. 

“The real problem here Jake is that it’s my dad’s fortune more than mine. And I swear if you repeat this next bit to anyone I’ll never speak to you again.” He took another deep breath and paused. “I live off of an ‘allowance’. Being totally honest, I don’t get much more than forty grand per month and I do have shit to pay for like my own rent and my insurances and car and whatnot.”

“Chap, I had no idea about that. If I had then I surely wouldn’t have asked you for the full amount right off the bat. I’m sorry, but I am desperate here still. Is there _anything_ you can do to help me out just a little? Any extra that you can spare? I’ll work for the rest, I promise. And I’ll still never ask you for another thing ever again. Cal please, I …. I think I love him.”

Yet another long pause on Caliborn’s end. This time it’s so long that you almost think he’s hung up on you and just flat out ignored you. 

“Still there?”

“Shut up and let me finish this.” He snapped. You were more than fine with complying at the moment. “I did the math. I can spare about fifteen grand for you and that’s dipping into my pitiful savings and skipping out on some dinner plans I had with a bitch I was going to break up with. Figured I could just dump her before we have dinner. Not as classy but it’ll do.” 

In your head you were silently shit talking his stupid socialite life and his values. Who in the hell has dinner with someone and then dumps them after the date? But he was willing to help so who were you to judge. You were damn desperate and he was going to give you almost half of the cash you needed. You would be so much closer to getting Dirk home in your arms and safe. Your brain then sidetracked from there, thinking about Dirk. 

“Jake? I can take it back if you don’t want my help anymore.”

“No! No. Sorry, was just lost in thought there for a moment. Fifteen would be amazing Cal. Thank you so so much.”

“Yeah whatever. Just invite me to your fucking wedding or I will crash it and it will not be pretty.”  
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. The two of you figured out the arrangement for the payment, transferring funds and whatnot. You found out the next morning that you had to call and verify the amount because it was such an unusual transfer of a large sum of money that your bank thought it was some kind of fraud.

All things considered, you now had about twenty grand to your name total, combining your savings and what Caliborn gave you. You just had to come up with another fifteen and you’d be set. So you did what any desperate man would do; you tightened up on your bills, and picked up two extra jobs to hurry along the process. One of which was an early morning shipment job that had you doing a lot of heavy lifting and unloading trucks. The other was bartending on an overnight shift, which left you only midday hours at the coffee shop most days. So you only really got to see Dirk on the rare tuesday or wednesday that you could close at the coffee shop. It was agonizing, every moment of it, but you knew it’d be damn well worth it. And that was all that mattered. Dirk would be yours soon enough, no matter how shitty the circumstances, because you loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, ideas, suggestions, and corrections are always welcomed and appreciated. Thank you for reading.


	3. The Resulting Rainfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final piece to the Hurricane. The buildup, the crash, and the aftermath. Prepare for impact because these waves will crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has warnings for gun violence, government bullshit, and minor character death. I'll be updating the tags for it as well to match. So please don't say I didn't warn you.  
> Also there's a lot of abusive language in this chapter as well as just some really fucked up dialogue. So be prepared for that as well.

_I’m a wanderess. I’m a one night stand. Don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man._

Maybe not so much the one night stand part, but you certainly felt like some sort of wanderer or wanderess that belonged to no one in particular. You were lucky if you got a total of 5 hours sleep in a 24 hour period because of the commutes and the 8 hour shifts you were working. In fact it got to the point where you considered renting out a storage space and not paying rent because you were hardly ever home. Why pay for an apartment you weren’t actually using? You’d considered it, but in the end storage in the city would be just as expensive, and at least with an apartment you had a bed to lay on for a while if you had time to swing home and use it. 

The first month of working three jobs was brutal on your body, getting accustomed to surviving off of coffee and energy drinks more than actual nutrients and solid foods. Even with all this extra work, you were still only making about $3500 a month. That in mind, it would take you at least four months to have enough to set Dirk free. You had the slightest suspicion that Bro wouldn’t keep his offer on the table for that long, even for someone as ‘loyal a customer’ as you. It was a gambling game at this point, and if he upped the price then you’d be forced to just keep working yourself to death to try and win the freedom of your beloved. How in the hell did things get so twisted?

_I’m the violence in the pouring rain._

So you didn’t like to think of yourself as a violent man, but you knew damn well that you had a temper, and when pushed past the envelope you found it hard to control. You should have known that you’d have to deal with something like this eventually, seeing as you’d taken a bartending job. Yet somehow you weren’t prepared for it when some angry drunk guy tried to take a swing at you from over the bar counter. You’d managed to duck out of the way of his fist for the first throw, but that was before he grabbed a bottle and slammed it against the counter, sending vodka-drenched glass shards flying. 

That wasn’t what made you snap though, it was what he called you that really sent you over the edge. You wouldn’t dare repeat such a slur, but let’s just say that it had to do with your sexuality, and you were thoroughly offended and pissed. It was such a stupid small thing, but loaded on top of everything else you were dealing with, it was the straw to break the mule’s back. 

Ignoring the broken bottle you slammed your fucking apron down, yelled for a security guard, and barged through the swinging doors at the end of the bar. The guy was dumb enough to try and keep coming at you, so when he jumped in front of you and blocked your path, you squarely clocked him in the jaw. That was when it really went from bad to worse. Apparently this guy had a couple buff chums who really didn’t appreciate you busting up their friend. What started as a minor altercation turned into a full on bar brawl. 

By the time security got involved you’d already earned yourself a black eye, a cracked tooth, and a pair of bloody knuckles. The guy who’d started the whole thing was out cold on the floor. The guards pulled you out of it before you could do any more damage and swiftly escorted the other men out of the bar, taking their pictures and banning them for life. 

Needless to say, you were reprimanded. The expenses for the broken bottles were taken out of your check and you were somehow ‘promoted’ to desk duty. Your boss decided that since she was behind on paperwork, that you could help her with it for the next month while your injuries healed up; which would mean quite a few more midday shifts. Also you would still be getting paid the same wage you normally would’ve, and you wouldn't be making any tips this way. So that damn well sucked. At least no one would be pressing charges though. That was your only ease of mind in all this mess. 

Your shipment job wasn’t too pleased about the condition of your hands, but they agreed to switch you to the unboxing/flow team for a short while until you were better. The coffee shop was essentially indifferent to your situation as far as workload was concerned. The only thing that really changed there was that they gave you as many closing shifts as they could because they were in desperate need of employees for night shifts. Apparently you worked at one of the only coffee shops in Brooklyn that had a rush of commuters on their way to overnight jobs. Just perfect though, it meant you could oogle Dirk a little more often and stare across the street like a sad puppy up until 10pm. And if that was as good as you could get for now, you’d take it.

_I’m a hurricane._

You weren’t sure why but you could just feel the universe holding its breath for the past week or so. Like something big was about to happen just around the corner, but you weren’t sure what and had no way to prepare for it. The day so far had seemed fairly normal. First two shifts completed of the three you were scheduled for today. All that was left was yet another closer at the coffee shop. For once Dirk wasn’t on the corner though, all night long. It was concerning. Maybe Bro had moved him for the time being? Or maybe he’d been requested by someone for an outing? Was it possible that Dirk had another customer who’d favored him in the same way that you had? 

The ding of the bell over the coffee shop door pulled you out of your own head before you got too worried or jealous. You chirped a small ‘welcome’ before looking up and realizing that two local police officers had just entered your unusually quiet shop. One was a taller man with greying hair and the other was a young woman with her dark hair pulled back. 

“Evening officers, what can I get for you?”

They exchanged a look as if they were strategizing on how to approach you. “We’ll just take two black coffees.” The woman said, tone even but light. 

“Alright.” You punched it in. “Anything else for you?” 

“Nah. That’ll do it. Thanks”

You finished the transaction normally before going about brewing their drinks. When you called it out for them they stopped you though. This time the gentleman officer addressed you.“So, how often would you say you work nights here?” 

“Pretty often. Maybe around four or five nights a week as of late.” You shrugged. 

“Mind if we ask you a few questions? We’re patrolling for a suspect and got a tip that they sometimes hang out ‘round this block. Just wanna know if there’s anything you might have noticed or any faces or names that seem familiar.” 

“Gosh. I’d be more than happy to help, but if it gets too busy I’m afraid I’ll have to prioritise. I’m sure you understand.” You glanced over at your coworker nervously. If a rush of people came in you wouldn’t want to be the jerk who left her all by herself at the register. 

“Of course.” The female officer then pulled out a notepad with some papers tucked in alongside the pages. “First we just wanted to know if you’ve noticed any odd behavior by any of the folks that come into the shop? Anyone seem secretive or maybe a little on edge.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Well caffeine can be a powerful addiction. But aside from the usual drowsy-looking patron, I haven’t noticed anything of the sort inside the shop, no.”

“Hm.” The gentleman seemed to pick up on your careful wording. “What about outside the shop? I’m sure it must get boring when business gets slow in here; ever stare out the window and people watch?” 

“I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but yes. I’ve taken a gander or two outside from time to time. And when we clean after hours I always wipe the glass up front.” 

“He practically fucking volunteers for it. Probably wants to stare at the prostitutes or something.” Your coworker mutters from the register. 

“Now I don’t think that’s a very fair accusation!” You snip. “And besides we have no proof of any prostitution activity going on there. Wouldn’t want to make any claims that we can’t back up with evidence.” You say the last bit with the tiniest of a bite, directed towards your coworker because this really isn’t their conversation in the first place. 

“That’s where we come in. Our job is to investigate suspicions like that.” The older man states with a prideful grin. He eyes you a moment longer before squinting some. “My gut is telling me that you folks know a little more than you’re letting on.”

“I don’t know shit.” Your coworker butts in once more. You stay quiet for a long moment and swallow hard. Should you tell them and risk Bro finding out and running? Or should you keep your mouth shut and keep working your shit jobs and pray that Dirk is still ok when you get the money you need? A hard decision for sure. You take a deep breath, and make a choice. Hopefully one you won’t regret. 

_I’m a hurricane._

You decided to ask them to meet you at your apartment after work and admitted that you did in fact have a good deal of more helpful information. You also mentioned that there was some possibility that your home might be bugged, so they gladly checked it out for you just in case. You really didn’t want Bro to get word of you snitching on him, and apparently these officers completely understood that and took you seriously. That bit alone was refreshing as hell, having someone believe you and say that your worry was completely reasonable. 

Once everything was all set and you were promised that the room was secure, you spilled like a dam breaking. Everything came out. How you’d fallen in love with Dirk, how you’d met him, how you were killing yourself at three jobs just to free him. You’d phrased it more like Dirk had owed Bro a debt so that you wouldn’t get slammed for paying into human trafficking, but details like that were always a matter of perspective anyways. So white lies could be told, you figured. You told them about how you’d met Bro and how you’d been threatened numerous times, almost like they were some sort of mafia. 

The officers brought out the pictures they’d had of their suspects and you recognized the bodyguard that was usually escorting Dirk around as well as a few faces that you couldn’t properly place but that seemed familiar. You were relieved to find that they had absolutely no issue with you being gay or bi or whatever the hell. The female officer in fact thought that it was really sweet of you to try and do anything you could to rescue Dirk. The male officer was focusing on his work moreso and pressing you for every last little detail, trying to get as specific as possible. 

You gave them everything that you had and they called a sketch artist in to try and get a rendering of what Bro looked like. Once they had that, things got a little hectic and the FBI got involved. Your apartment was packed with people and luckily most of them decided not to use their company cars, so there was only one police car parked outside your building. 

Apparently from the drawing alone they’d been able to find Bro’s file. His legal name was Derrick, which was infinitely less intimidating. He had been on the FBI watch list for years and they’d completely lost trail of him when he moved from Chicago to Brooklyn. You’d just saved their asses and some of their careers. 

Before you knew it, they were coming up with plans on how to save Dirk and capture Bro. There was hardly a single one that you didn’t like the sound of. This could actually work. This could genuinely work. You could get out of this scot free. You could help the FBI catch a criminal. They even said that if all went well, then you and Dirk could be placed in the witness protection program and moved, just in case any of Bro’s lackeys tried to come after either of you. This was insane. It sounded too good to be true. Knowing the stereotypes of the police, it probably was too good to be true, but you put your trust in them regardless because if you didn’t you’d be facing this alone. 

The plan you all finally settled on would have quite a few pieces to it. The first being that the reason there were cops in your apartment that night was that you missed a payment on your rent and were effectively evicted. The FBI would be handling the paperwork with the building manager. You’d be going to stay in a hotel that night. Conveniently it was the same hotel where a few of the FBI agents were also staying, so they were going to pull some strings to keep you on the same floor as them. That was reassuring. 

The second was that because you missed that payment, you’d had more money in your savings, so that had to be amended. In addition, since it wouldn’t be so out of the ordinary at this point, they would be staging another money transfer from Caliborn so that you had enough for Dirk plus a little extra in case the price went up. So that was completely covered for you, no questions asked. 

The third part of the plan got a little more complicated. You would be given very detailed fake bills, and would be pulling all of your money out of your bank so that it would look like the fakes were your savings. The fake cash would be loaded into a provided briefcase in the form of hundreds of course. They would also be giving you a phone that records all conversations made within earshot. So it wasn’t a wire so much as a phone that’d been wiretapped tenfold. 

Naturally the fourth part wasn’t so hard to figure out. You were to go to Bro and try to settle this debt so that you could walk out with Dirk in hand. The FBI would be tracking your location via phone as well, and the most that you got from there was that they would handle the rest. The didn’t tell you how they would do it or what specifically they would be doing. You had no idea whether or not you’d be in mortal danger. You had no clue if they were going to arrest Bro or kill him. You just knew they would handle it and your safety and Dirk’s were promised. 

_I’m a hurricane._

You sure as hell felt like you were stepping into a hurricane now. Or perhaps out of one? You were heading into the strongest winds and trying to get out of the eye of the storm. You had people anchoring you to the outside and you were ready to get out already. More than that though, you were ready to drag Dirk out of this mess with you. 

Once steps one through three were completed without issue, all that was left to do was get in contact with Bro. Lucky for you, Dirk was on the corner today. His usual guard, Cro was about to shoo you away before he saw the briefcase in your hand. He seemed to understand immediately, whereas Dirk seemed lost completely. 

“I’m assumin’ ya wanna see the boss today?” The guard asked. You nodded and couldn’t help the smirk on your face. 

“That’s right. I’m here to take this one home.” You stated proudly, patting Dirk on the shoulder, which caused him to spin around and fully face you. 

“Jake if this is some kind of joke, I swear-.” Dirk started before you cut him off. 

“It’s not. I have the amount in full.” You lifted your briefcase and tapped it, feeling an awful lot like one of those fellows from an old action movie. Dirk looked at you with raised eyebrows, seeming very unsure. Luckily, his guard took you seriously and butted back in.

“Aight. Well protocol says I gotta take him back to base before you can meet with Bro. So just hang tight loverboy. Go get a coffee or somethin’ an I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes.” The bodyguard then gestured for Dirk to start walking and followed him down the street. You let out a sigh of relief and pushed your fingers through your hair. Ok. You could do this. Today was the day. 

Those twenty minutes were the longest damn minutes of your life. You couldn’t help but keep shaking your leg as you waited and you were almost certain that you looked like a guy who’d had one too many coffees today and was on a caffeine overload. There was a small comfort in the fact that you had to be dressed nicely at least to meet Bro again, so you didn’t look like a complete nutcase. Just a business fellow who’d stayed up late too many times for his company. Underneath that though, the FBI had given you a bulletproof vest to wear, just in case. You were apprehensive on their thinking that you’d need it, but it was better to be safe than sorry. 

You drew yourself out of your thoughts long enough to glance up and out the window again. It was an incredible relief to see that Cro had kept his word and was in fact coming back to fetch you. However when you saw another guy following him, once again your nerves jumped underneath your skin. You could feel the beginnings of gooseflesh, but pushed all those feelings down. Jake English was a man that could stay calm and collected in the face of imminent danger. (Or so you hoped.)

They waited outside by the street corner and you caught the drift and assumed they’d wanted you to meet them back out there, across from the coffee shop. 

When you walked over Cro immediately opened his mouth before you could get the chance. “Kid, the boss ain’t got much time, so we gotta make this fast if you wanna be seen at all today.” You glanced at the other man standing there with him. He picked up on that immediately. “No time for introductions. We’ve got a car waitin round the corner. Let’s move it.” You nodded and followed him promptly, knowing that with things like this it was best to listen and not ask too many questions. Or at least that’s what the officers had told you. 

You were placed in the back seat. There was a divider between you and the driver and the back windows were tinted so dark you could hardly see out of them. Cro took the front passenger seat and left you in the back with this other man who you were still a bit intimidated by and nervous to be around. The man handed you a pair of headphones and told you to bring up a video on your phone so that you’d be distracted. You noticed that the car didn’t move until you did what was requested of you. 

One short and very weird car ride later you arrived at a building that seemed very underwhelming. It was just like any other broken down apartment building on the cheaper side of town. You wondered if they should have blindfolded you before just walking around the backside of the building and taking you down into the basement areas. Later you’d realize why they didn’t bother. 

_He says, "Oh, baby, beggin' you to save me. Though lately, I like 'em crazy. Oh, maybe, you could devastate me. Little lady, come and fade me.”_

So maybe Bro didn’t word things exactly like that, but he sure was mocking Dirk and you for the situation as a whole. What he did say was much worse. It’s a scenario you wish you could forget but you know his words will stick with you. 

“You really thought that this idiot of a patron would be able to rescue you? You think real love is what this is? He’s paying for you. Even now. He’s buying you. You’re his property, not his equal. In your head you’re like fucking cinderella and finally your prince has come to rescue you. Well newsflash sweetheart, there’s no fairy godmother, you don’t have a glass slipper, and your prince is only purchasing you because you’re a good fuck, a nice lay, a slut.” You had to bite down the bile resting in your throat because this man was just despicable. But he just kept going, kept goading you both on as his heels clicked across the tile. 

“Dirk, oh darling Dirk. My favorite pet. You think this will break me don’t you? Just because you’ve had the least need for punishment. You think you’re the best of my dolls and that’s why you get to be free? Don’t you.” He smirks and lets out a scoff of a laugh. “I want you to remember that this won’t make or break me sweetheart. I’ll be fine and there will always be someone more desperate, more broken, and more willing to put out than you. But you so wish that your leaving would break me, don’t you? You want me to suffer. You know that you could have gave more and you didn’t because you still weren’t good enough. You never will be.” 

You glance at Dirk and you can see the sour expression on his face just begging to slip out beyond the poker mask he’s attempting to keep up. You hope against hope that Bro can’t see that same expression resting under there. 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself before we finalize this, bitch? Any last words you wanna say to me while you’re in my care before I hand you off to this skeeze?” Bro takes a few steps towards Dirk and it takes everything in your being to keep yourself planted and not intervene. 

You’re standing in essentially the middle of the room. Bro had Dirk standing next to him by a rather large chair that could honestly be compared to some kind of throne. He was pacing earlier, but now he stood right in front of Dirk, almost nose to nose with him, glaring him down. In front of you there’s a table on it. Resting on said table is your briefcase, the guards that brought you here are sitting down counting the bills in the case. There’s at least six other guards around the edges of the room and no doubt there’s more in the hallways and upstairs in the rest of the building. 

Dirk stays silent. Or at least if he does speak it’s not above a whisper. You see him lower his head and you just know that he’s doing what he can to not cause an altercation. You’ve also been playing it safe today with your words in order to avoid conflict, so you understand. 

Bro lets out a loud bark of a laugh this time and paces away from Dirk, back towards the table. “Is that shit counted yet or do I need a third idiot to come and fucking sort this shit out with you?”

The guys frantically scramble to dump the cash back in the case, declaring that they have it and that it’s all there. Swearing up and down that they’re fine and competent essentially. 

“Good. Now. English. Come sit.” He motions at you with two fingers and then turns to the guards again. “You two, move all this crap. You know where to put it.” 

You watch Cro and his friend squish all the bills back into the case and scurry away before you take a few steps forward and stand at the edge of the table. 

“Don’t look so nervous. Take a load off, have a seat. Today’s your day, my friend. You get to take home your prize. I just wanna chat before I hand over the reigns.” Bro urges. So sit down you do, though you still feel tense. “What’s on your mind?”

“Oh! I’ve just. I’ve never done something like this before. It’s all very exciting.” You assure him, putting on your best grin, which can be damn convincing if you do say so yourself. 

“Well there’s no need to worry. You’re safe here and we promise you a safe and secure exit as well. There is just one little thing we need to discuss.” You hold your breath and for a moment you can feel the panic rise as you wonder if he knows about the cops. He has his money. He could certainly kill you right here and now if he wanted. “Cro informed me that he didn’t blindfold you when you got here. Is that true?”

“Oh. Uh. Was he supposed to?”

“Yes.” Bro quipped before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Yes he was. And you were not supposed to learn the location of our hideout. Now that you know. You could be considered a liability. So I need you to make me a promise, Jake.”

“Alright.” 

“Now, now, don’t go agreeing to anythin before you’ve heard what I’ve got to say. I need you to promise me that you understand this next sentence.” He reaches out his hand to you in a manner that reminds you of saying grace at the dinner table as a child. You wish that was the case and that you weren’t about to grab this man’s hand. You take it anyway though. 

“If you ever, tell anyone, about me, or this place, or disclose anything you’ve seen from today, I will find you, and I will cut your fucking tongue out and mount it on my wall, and then I’ll kill you in your sleep.” As he spoke the grip on his hand got even tighter around yours to the point where it felt like he was about to break your fingers. “Can you promise me that you understand?”

“Yes.” You nod your head. You immediately think ‘well i understand but i can’t say that i haven’t already spilled the beans’, but you absolutely DO NOT say that out loud because that would certainly mean your immediate death. 

“Good.” He smiles, almost genuinely, and it’s quite terrifying. “Glad we’re on the same page. Now wait here while Dirk goes and gets what few things he has. I’ll let him use the briefcase you brought with you as a luggage bag, anything that doesn’t fit is going to have to be left behind for his replacement.” Bro speaks loud enough that Dirk can hear him from across the room. The way the blond scuttles away almost in shame but with a hint of irritation has you feeling quite the blend of emotions. You’re glad to have him out of this place, but you hate that he had to ever be here to begin with. 

But nevertheless you wait. You’ve waited so long to be with him, you can wait a few more minutes, assuming everything goes as planned. 

_I’m a wanderess. I’m a one night stand. Don’t belong to no city, don’t belong to no man._

Dirk comes back, briefcase in hand, in a different set of clothes than he’d previously been wearing. Clearly he had his preferences on style and you couldn’t fault him for that. Besides, regular black skinny jeans looked much nicer on him than the pleather lace up contraptions he’d been wearing that day, at least in your opinion. 

“Well. I didn’t tell you to change, but the shit you were wearing before was more expensive so I fucking guess it’s fine.” Bro mutters as he stands up to greet Dirk and see him off. “You wanna give me a kiss goodbye? No hard feelings? You’re free to speak now, you’re Jake’s but remember you’re still in the lions den so don’t push it.” 

“Goodbye.” Dirk grits through his teeth, and you can tell that he’s very fucking pissed off at the way he’s being chastised and treated. It’s nice to see him not acting so meek, but it’s also quite the move to be that forward. 

“There’s that fire I remember. I hadn’t seen it in such a long time, I almost thought I’d stamped that flame out. But there it is.” Bro looks at Dirk fondly and you really just wish you could get the hell out of here already. “Anything else for me? No ‘eat shit and die’? Nothin?” 

“No.” You watch his grip tighten on the briefcase handle. 

“Alright then you’re free to go.” Bro extends his arm out towards you, essentially signaling Dirk’s permission to leave. Your blond walks towards you so fast you’d think he was about to break into a sprint if he didn’t know better. You want to embrace him but you know that now isn’t the time. He does however take your hand with his empty one, and you allow him that small comfort. 

“Is there anything else you need from us or are we free to go?” You ask, speaking up ever so cautiously. 

Bro shrugs at you.”You’re paid off, he’s got his shit. You’re free to leave. Just remember to keep your lips shut and you’ll never have to see me again.” 

“Fuck you.” You hear Dirk mutter under his breath and everything in your being is tense now, praying that Bro didn’t just hear that. 

“Excuse me?” Oh no. Christ. Dirk and his damned mouth sometimes. You love him but that was very poorly timed. 

“Oh. Nothing. He was talking to me. It’s fine.” You jump in, trying to de-escalate the situation.

“What did that motherfucker just say then?” He grits out. 

“He said, he said thank you.” You mentally slap yourself for stammering like you just did. You certainly don’t seem as collected now as you’d hoped you’d be. 

“You sure? You wanna stand by that claim? You’re still in my fucking house buddy. You don’t wanna piss me off.” Bro practically yells, getting up in your face, close enough that a tiny bit of spit flings onto your face when he says the word ‘piss’. 

“I’m positive. At least that’s what I heard him say.” You defend, raising your arms and hoping to create some distance. Bro backs off and allows the distance. 

“Get the fuck out before you fucking regret it.” He seethes. He doesn’t have to tell you twice before you’re dragging Dirk out by the hand and hoping to sweet jehosaphat that you remember how to navigate the hallways well enough. 

_I’m the violence in the pouring rain. I’m a hurricane._

You manage to find your way outside. It’s raining. You notice that that car that’d brought you here is not there anymore and that makes you just a little suspicious. Dirk clings to you as the two of you walk down the alley and you promise yourself that as soon as you get around the corner you’re going to squeeze him so tightly to you. 

However as you near the end of the alley you notice it’s eerily quiet and you get a very bad feeling that something or someone is waiting for you around the corner. “Get behind me.” you whisper to Dirk, praying that your gut feeling is absolutely wrong and that you’re just being ridiculous. Dirk listens anyway though because the tone in your voice is paranoid enough to warrant genuine concern. 

“What about you?” He asks. 

“Don’t worry about me right now. I’ll explain later. Just stay behind me, please.” You whisper lowly back to him. The two of you continue to creep forward. 

The car that brought you here is perched on the corner, out front of the building. You take two more steps before you see him. Bro comes running out front, gun in hand, pointed right at you. He yells “Nice try motherfucker.” 

Three shots are fired. 

Two people fall to the ground. 

You’re hit. One bullet is lodged in your vest, right where your heart would be, and the other in your upper bicep. You manage to get up and drag Dirk along with you, running for your lives. He shouts your name but you have no time to explain to him right now. You get out across the street and are immediately taken in by an undercover FBI vehicle and driven away. Your getaway car essentially. 

“Are you ok? Jake what the fuck? He shot you in the chest?” Dirk yells at you. You unbutton your dress shirt with your uninjured hand and flash a bit of the vest at him. 

“I was always going to be fine. That’s why I told you to get behind me, love.” You grin. 

“What about your arm though?” He asks, reaching towards it, but not touching. 

“Oh that’ hurts like the devil. Definitely not wrapped. Going to need some medical attention. But it’s all worth it to get you home and safe.” 

“So you were working with the cops?”

“The FBI.” You confirm. The driver glances in the rear view and makes eye contact with you. 

“Hospital?” He asks, and you nod and make an affirmative grunt noise. You notice some napkins tucked into the back pocket of the driver’s seat and use them to attempt to sop up some of the blood and keep pressure on your arm. 

“How long have you been planning this?” Dirk asks you. 

“Maybe a few days? I was just going to work myself to death to get you free. But this seemed more opportune and less costly.” You manage a weak chuckle despite being in a great deal of pain. Dirk seems to get it though, because he quiets down and just sort of scoots closer to you. 

“I shouldn’t be asking so much. You can tell me later when you’re not bleeding. But, thank you. For saving me.” 

“Don’t thank me. Thank these folks, they’re the real heros. I was just the bait that helped them catch an internationally wanted criminal.” You chuckle again and Dirk gives you this concerned and yet amused look. It’s very nice to see him expressive again, like when you used to spend time alone in your apartment. 

He leans over in his seat and gives you a soft kiss on the lips. You can’t help but keep pulling him in for more and kissing him harder. You’ve missed kissing his lips and you can’t help but take comfort in knowing that you’ll be able to do that whenever you’d like from this point on. 

You’re pulled apart when you finally arrive at the hospital, your driver clearing his throat to try and remind you that you are in fact not completely out of the deep shit just yet. 

There’s at least ten more agents at the hospital, waiting for you to arrive and apparently designated to keeping you and Dirk safe. You hate leaving him alone with them when the doctors take you back to remove the bullet, but you understand it’s necessary. 

About two hours later, you’re reunited at last. Dirk sits on the edge of your hospital bed and holds your hand as an agent comes in to give him the full details of what the plan was and how it went down. Then he tells you the summary of what all happened after you left the site. 

You learn that the third shot was past Bro’s shoulder blade and straight through his heart from the backside. He’s not going to recover. They had a sniper set up on a roof nearby when they traced the signal, just in case he made an appearance. They were lucky he came outside. You were lucky they threw off his second shot and it hit your arm instead of your head. 

The FBI had surrounded the building almost immediately and caught and arrested everyone that they could find, and promised to lock them up indefinitely. They also recovered at least 40 missing people who’d been in Derrick’s “care”, some for months, some years. Those people would all be handled on a case by case basis. If they had family they could go back to then they would be placed in witness protection, much like you and Dirk, if not they’d be given help to get on their feet and into a stable situation so they’d never have to sell their bodies again. 

It was nice to hear that the government would be doing so much for these people, but in all honesty, none of it compared to having the love of your life by your side. That was the next thing that was brought up. You two were apparently allowed a collective $250,000 maximum to pick a new home anywhere in the continental US and what you had in savings would be doubled and returned to you as a ‘thank you’ for helping them catch Derrick. It was completely unexpected, but you weren’t about to turn down such a generous offer. 

When the dust all settled, you and Dirk talked about it, and decided you wanted to live together on the West Coast. As far as possible from all this mess. You wound up in the state of Washington and honestly, you couldn’t bring yourselves to complain. Sure it rained a lot, but it just gave you more reason to stay inside and take days off soaking in each others company. The two of you often took any opportunity you could get to spend extra time around each other. Even if that meant that one of you was doing something on the computer in the kitchen while the other cooked, at least you were near each other and doing something domestic. 

Dirk wound up going to college and even got his associates for computer technology. You couldn’t have been more proud of him. You loved watching him flourish and open up and be more himself than he’d been allowed to be in a long time. Later this fall you plan on proposing to him, but he has no idea. It’s been terribly difficult not to tell him, but you think you can make it the last two months without spilling the beans. You can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with him, but for now you just take things one day at a time and enjoy every second you can with the love of your life, one charming and alluring Dirk Strider.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to break this into two chapters, so the rest of the song will be covered in the next one. I have it half written already so it shouldn't be too long of a wait for it. ^_^ Thanks for reading!  
> [ Tumblr ](https://aporetic-elf.tumblr.com/)  
> Patreon and Ko-Fi info is in my tumblr bio.


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